Saturday, March 15, 2008
When The Fur Flies
"I don't understand, you're giving your furs away. Am I understanding you correctly?"
"Yup. Thanks for storing them these past two years, but like I said, someone from the Animal Humane Society will be by to pick them up."
"And do what with them, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Well they cut them up and make bedding out of them for injured wild animals they're trying to nurse back to health."
"And they need mink to do this?"
"They probably don't need mink, but the fur reminds them of their mommas."
"Yeah, well my furs don't remind me of my momma."
"That's because you're not a fox."
"Why don't we just ship them to you? You can wear them there, get some use out of 'em."
"I live in Oregon."
"So. We ship to Oregon."
"No, you don't understand. I wear fleece now. And Gortex and rubber boots."
"What the hell happened to you? You used to be so glamorous."
"I used to be a lot of things."
"You aren't getting ready to off yourself, are you? I read somewhere that's what people do...give away everything then jump off a bridge."
"No, no, I'm good. I just think I'd look silly now. You know, in a fur."
"What do you wear now?"
"A down jacket. Green."
"Jesus. Sorry to hear that."
Posted by Second Edition at 12:56 PM